


Fin Du Jeu

by weicheidarling



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Dysphoria, M/M, Neil is with Andrew but he's also with Kevin and that's Great, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Canon, Shower Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Neil Josten, lots of talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weicheidarling/pseuds/weicheidarling
Summary: The first thing Neil does after dropping his duffle bag at the door and tossing his keys onto the table is going up on his toes a little to throw his arms around Kevin’s neck.Kevin bristles, eyes darting to Andrew who seems to have no interest in returning the gesture before resting his hands cautiously on Neil’s hips and pondering, how long had this been creeping up on him without him noticing.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Neil Josten
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	Fin Du Jeu

Neil does hugs now. This is the first thing that dawns on Kevin when Andrew and Neil return from summer vacation. Kevin had stayed at the dorms or crashed on Wymack’s couch while Neil and Andrew went home to Columbia and then on multiple trips across the coast to escape the other monsters. And when he returned to the dorm, the first thing Neil does after dropping his duffle bag at the door and tossing his keys onto the table is going up on his toes a little to throw his arms around Kevin’s neck.

Kevin bristles, eyes darting to Andrew who seems to have no interest in returning the gesture before resting his hands cautiously on Neil’s hips and pondering, how long had this been creeping up on him without him noticing. He thinks he might have seen the upperclassmen hug Neil, or Wymack clap a hand on Neil’s shoulder. He picked his memory for any time Neil had instigated touch and all that came to mind were dozens of tiny vignettes he hadn’t realized he’d filed away of Andrew allowing Neil’s fingers to graze his knuckles or their shoulders to rest against each other as Neil settled onto the couch. 

“Okay,” Neil says, pulling back. “All charged up.”

Kevin watches in bewilderment as Neil whirls away, snatching his bag off the floor and darting down the hall. Distinctly, Kevin says aloud, “Okay, bye?”

-

Neil touches Andrew a lot, Kevin notices. And if it were anyone else, Kevin is sure they’d have lost a hand by now, but it’s Neil so Andrew turns into it, resigned and fond with a distinctly Andrew flavor. His fingers will card through Andrew’s hair when it falls into his face. Or he’d make a point to caress Andrew’s fingers as he takes a cigarette from him before they enter a building and put it out on the sole of his shoe. He’ll knock their face guards together raucously after a winning game and hold them there together, not a kiss, but about as intimate as one. Andrew allows all of this. Kevin wonders if he ever doesn’t, but kind of suspects that Neil can just pick up on when he won't and doesn’t even try then. 

Neil also has begun to touch Kevin. A lot. 

It starts at night practice. They’re sweating, and Neil twists Kevin’s sloppy fringe and curls it behind his ear, telling him, “You need a haircut.” 

Then, he bumps Kevin’s shoulder as he walks past during a match when Kevin’s temper begins to grow unruly, pivoting to walk backward as he passes and telling him, “Don’t get carded.”

He insists on cleaning a floor burn Kevin gets from a particularly bad tumble during practice and seems to think nothing of it as he laughs with Matt about how impossibly big he is, like a brick wall. Once he’s finished and covered it with a bandage, he smooths his thumb over it and leans in. “Better?” 

Kevin doesn’t know how to process the softness in his voice so he just huffs, pushing off the bleacher they were straddling to grab his racquet and get back into the court. 

-

In the dark of the Columbia house, Andrew holds Neil’s wrist as he pulls him toward the stairs. Kevin doesn’t know why he watches. It seems oddly intimate like it’s not meant for his eyes, but he watches, and Neil notices him watching. For some reason, he can’t look away, though he knows he would normally.

Neil purses his lips before breaking their eye contact to look at Andrew. Whatever goes between them, Andrew gives an almost imperceptible nod, and Neil looks up at Kevin again. “Goodnight,” he says. Like it pains him a little.

Kevin doesn’t know what that means. He just gives his own nod and turns toward the couch. Tries not to think about how long it takes before he hears footsteps on the stairs. 

It was only a beat of a moment so Kevin doesn’t know why he’s so hung up on it. It’s rare for anybody to acknowledge each other by the time they get home, too tired and crashing from their chosen high to bother with social niceties. So what did it mean that Neil had taken the care to bid Kevin a good night before heading upstairs? And why had it needed Andrew’s permission?

Kicking off his shoes, Kevin dumps himself into the recliner in the corner of the room and kicks up the foot-rest. He can’t sleep though. Just keeps remembering the exact curve of Neil’s brow as it quirked up in a question he wasn’t asking or Kevin didn’t know how to translate. 

-

Neil taps the head of his racquet on the inside of his shoe while he talks. Kevin can’t hear him from across the court but he’s saying something to Andrew and looking at the floor, and Kevin can’t see his face, guarded by the wires of his mask and blurred from the distance. Kevin doesn’t know why it makes him angry.

“Oi!” he shouts across the court. “Head in the game!” And he chunks his ball hard across the Plexi at an odd angle, high and lightning-quick so it pings off about three different points before rocketing toward the goal.

The point of this drill is to help Neil judge the trajectory of the ball and anticipate its movements. It had been one of his hardest when Neil started but now, having seasoned himself as an NCAA champion, Neil is growing uncomfortably adept at forecasting Kevin’s pitches and as the ball sails toward the corner of the goal, Neil is already across the floor and planted to catch the ball before he furiously whirls it back at Kevin. 

They do this back and forth along the impossible length of the court until their arms are jellified, and Andrew is sick of their panting and heaving. Kevin knows they need Andrew there to act as the self-control both of them lack when it comes Exy, but there’s a small part of him that’s still waiting for Andrew to give in and throw himself into the game with them, to let them see how far they can go until the pain and exhaustion had seeped through their core and became their entire being. 

Tonight, when Andrew decides he’s done, and wordlessly removes himself from the court, instead of trotting after him like he usually does, Neil hovers by the goal, exy racquet resting over his shoulders and his wrists hanging limply like a marionette over it. He’s looking up at the banners above home goal, and Kevin wonders what he sees that’s keeping him from heading to the lockers with Andrew. 

Approaching, Kevin examines each banner. There are four of them, equally spaced above the goal. Three were massive portraits of the senior girls with their last names and number in front of a black background with an orange fox paw. Then there was one in white and orange, a commemoration to their championship last year. Kevin realized upon coming to stand next to Neil that he was looking at the final banner. 

When Kevin turns his head to look up at it as well, trying to decipher what he’s studying, Neil turns to look at him. Odd.

Kevin doesn’t like this game, so he doesn’t shy away from looking back down at Neil. Their eye contact doesn’t break for a long minute before Neil finally looks down. Through the whole staring contest his face had been unreadable, but open and unreserved. Kevin doesn’t know what that meant. 

Neil sighs, unclasping the chin piece of his helmet and pulling it over his head. In the sparing light they use to illuminate the court for their late practices, Kevin can see the spray of sweat that came up from Neil’s wild hair being released. His cheeks are flush and his icy eyes pink-rimmed with exhaustion. He looks. Beautiful.

Kevin scowls, pulling his gaze away. He doesn’t like that this had become what his mind does when he sees Neil now. It feels dangerous. A knife to his gut. To distract himself, he fiddles with his own chinstrap and removes his helmet, resting it on his hip. It’s less claustrophobic without it like he can finally breathe. 

Neil’s weight shifts and Kevin can’t help but let all his attention be drawn to it, though he still faces away. Neil taps his racquet on the inside of his sneaker again and hums. It’s the sound he makes when he was about to say something and ends up deciding against it. 

Kevin gives him time. It’s all he can do. 

Another eternity later, Neil turns like he’ll walk toward the door though he doesn’t move any further from Kevin. “So,” he says. Kevin can’t see his face. It makes it hard to gauge Neil’s temperament. “It’s been a week and you never asked Andrew and me what we did on our vacation.”

Kevin scowls, unsure of where this is going. “You told me before you left you were going to drive up to Philly and then make a few stops on the way.”

Neil’s shoulders set, but he works them into relaxing and says, “You’re not curious what we did up there?”

At one point, Kevin had been. While they were gone, he’d wondered a little bit every day what Neil was up to. If he was able to stay sane with the agonizing pace at which Andrew traveled, savoring each experience like he was a dying man, while Neil moved at the break-neck pace of a jackrabbit. He wondered if Andrew was stuffing him with junk food and he was going to have to come up with a new workout regiment come August for a five to ten pound heavier Neil. 

But as soon as he had wrapped his arms around Kevin’s neck. No, sooner - as soon as he’d seen Neil’s angelic and mangled face walk through the door, all Kevin knew was he could breathe easy again. 

Kevin made to shrug but Neil was facing away from him and wouldn’t see, so he didn’t do anything, not until Neil looked over his shoulder, and his expression is dark and unreadable. 

“I,” Neil starts. And stops. Like there’s a mess of words inside him and he can’t seem to gain purchase of any of them. He runs a hand through his damp hair and as he does, his fingers push his bandana away, letting his bangs flop forward in thick auburn tendrils. A bead of sweat drips onto his nose and slides down to fall on the floor. Kevin watches all of this with agonizing attention to detail. “I needed some space.”

“Space?” Kevin echoes, just barely above a breath. 

“To think,” Neil pushes on, growing a little louder. His eyes drop to the floor - brows furrowed - like the volume came at the consequence of his confidence. Kevin wasn’t sure where this was going. Was he going to quit the team? “And talk to Andrew.”

“You don’t do that here?” Kevin tried to joke, but it came out with more snark than he intended and stung them both to hear. Kevin wasn’t mean on purpose. It just came naturally to him. 

Neil holds his arm, letting his racquet rest on the floor. There was a good three yards between them and Neil still wouldn’t face him fully, so Kevin was forced to watch him in profile as he tried to keep himself together. When Neil didn’t start talking quickly enough for his liking, Kevin sighed, forcing himself to speak.

“You’ve been acting different lately,” Kevin notes. He balances his racquet in one hand while he thinks because it was easier to look at something tried and true than the lack of surety on Neil’s face. “If it starts affecting your game -”

“It won’t,” Neil cuts him off, and his eyes are fierce but pleading. Even the threat is enough to make him look at Kevin when he’d been unable to before and even though it bites at Kevin a little, to be that cruel, he feels like he accomplished something. It doesn’t last. “We needed to talk about you.”

Oh.

That floors Kevin. 

He aches with the clear wide blue of Neil’s eyes on him. Realizes that tightness he’d been feeling since Neil lingered on court with him was anxiety, and he needed to start breathing like a human being or he was going to go into a panic attack. 

Talking about him. They had been talking about him. What did that mean? 

Kevin’s lips stick a little when he tries to open them, and he feels them peel apart, having to lick them to jolt start a little humanity back into his system. “What?” he croaked. 

Neil looks. Unbearable. Like he’ll combust on the spot. A dark flush is spreading across his cheeks, and he can't fathom the words he’s trying to produce, gaping stupidly like a fish. Kevin thinks distinctly, even now, even with that dumb look on his face, he looks cute. 

Neils brows furrow and he seems to brace his whole body, waiting for the impact of a check that won’t hit. “We needed to talk about. If I could. If I could have you. For. For good.”

Kevin blinked.

Neil added quieter, “If you want. That is.”

For a moment, Kevin thought this was something to do with their deals and trades. The ongoing equilibrium Andrew and Neil seemed to keep. Andrew communicated through bargains, though contracts. Kevin in a lot of ways still belonged to Andrew, but once, a year ago, he had temporarily been under Neil’s care. It was then that Neil came back from winter break with a black number 4 tattooed on his cheek. 

But this wasn’t that. At least not entirely. Kevin had nothing he needed to be protected from anymore. His head cocked, and he let his racquet twirl, so it went from resting on the back of his hand to being held firmly in his palm. 

He mulled the feeling around in his mouth. Neil was asking him for something. A big something. “So you and Andrew are? What breaking up?”

Neil’s chin tucked. “No.”

“I don’t understand then.”

Neil’s eyes slid to somewhere at his left. Kevin realized it was probably what little of his scar he could see in his peripheral vision and he shifted from foot to foot, drawing an invisible line across the court with his racquet. “Do you. Like me?”

Kevin hadn’t prepared himself for that. It kind of sets off warning bells. A whole cacophony in his head. After all, he’d never allowed himself the freedom to even ask himself the question before. Neil belonged to Andrew. That was all he knew. Instead of answering, Kevin scratches his head. “Uh.” 

Then: “Where is Andrew?”

“Waiting in the car,” Neil admits. “So we can talk.”

“He’s okay with this?” 

Neil nods, finally pulling his eyes up, like it will help convey the sincerity. Kevin supposes in a way it does. Somewhat. 

“He’s really okay with it?”

Neil purses his lips. His blush is making its way to his ears, and he grabs a strand of his loose wavy fringe, pulling it down straight like it might provide a curtain for his face. It doesn’t but he hides behind it anyway, shutting his eyes. “Andrew doesn’t. Want anyone but me. And we’re happy. We are. But. I’ve. 

“Fuck,” Neil hisses, scrubbing his hands over his face. Kevin kind of thinks maybe he should comfort him, for all he looks like he’s falling apart from this. But he stands rigid in his place and waits. Maybe because he still feels at any moment Andrew will walk back on court with a blade in hand and his lips pulled back in a terrifying grimace. 

Neil’s voice is small, so small Kevin has to strain to hear it when he continues. “I’ve wanted you since we were. Kids. And I. Never got that.”

That stings. Brings up foggy memories of Neil’s round eyes like pools of water on him, then on a man cut into - piece by bloody piece - on a ceramic floor. The blood seeping out, migrating across white tile and staining the soles of their sneakers. Memories of his school photo on a mantle on Nathan Wesninksi’s office and then years and years later, eyes that weren’t blue but brown and filled with a bottomless rage. 

Kevin might have buried something deep with those eyes that were Neil’s eyes - but also weren’t - that he hadn’t thought about since Andrew had nearly choked the life out of him on an orange charter bus. It was then that the realness of Andrew’s hold on Neil hit him hard in the face.

Kevin relaxes his shoulders, lets every vertebra in his back align itself and looks down his nose across the court at Neil. “So what? You think you can have us both?”

Neil scowls, face crumpling just a little. Kevin doesn’t know how to say things that don’t hurt the other party. But he supposes Neil knew that about him because he doesn’t back down. “Only if you. Want that.”

But what does it mean to want? Everything that Kevin had ever wanted was inevitably torn away from him. The only thing he’d had and never lost was Exy, and that wasn’t for Riko’s lack of trying. But thinking about that forces another grudging realization. It wasn’t Kevin who had kept tenacious fingers dug into his game and stowed it safe in his heart. Not alone at least. He would not be here without Andrew at his back. And not without Neil plowing ahead of him like a freight train, running, bleeding, determined to have the game in his grasp. 

Maybe Kevin hadn’t been processing something deep in his core about these two. Maybe he’d shut it down before it could ever take flight because it seemed impossible, the idea of the two of them surrounding him meaning something more than as teammates. 

“What does it mean?” Kevin asks, and it makes Neil start. Maybe he’d been in his head for longer than he thought. “You wanting me?”

Neil’s eyes do something that is hard to read from the distance but Kevin thinks maybe it reads a little like hope. “I want. To play exy with you. All the time. Every night.”

“We do that already,” Kevin points out, but Neil pushes on, undeterred and gaining traction.

“I want to go pro with you and play on the same team and make Court and live together like we do now. Forever.”

Kevin’s brow quirks. They could do that without Kevin "belonging" to Neil. Hell, with the way things stand, if Kevin can whip Neil into shape, that’s where they’re headed already. 

“And I want you to. Hold me. You’re. Weight. I want to feel it on me.”

Kevin distinctly thinks he’s never heard such a bizarre request for him to sleep with someone, and he’d lived with the Ravens for years. 

The idea is. Not unwanted. Kevin would be lying if he said his mind hadn’t wandered to Neil’s lean thighs and small waist, or the way he could easily circle his fingers around both Neil’s wrists at once if he wanted to. He’s always shut the thought down quickly with a glance to Andrew but this is. Neil is telling him he didn’t have to, and that opens. So many doors of possibility. 

“You really want that?” 

Kevin wonders if it’s annoying, him asking Neil to clarify over and over, but if it is Neil gives nothing away. He strides the length of the gap between them, closing it quickly, and from chest level, he looks up at him. His eyes are so damn. Blue. 

“I want it,” he says. His fingers graze Kevin’s wrist at his side, and Kevin opens his palm to him without so much as a thought. Neil’s fingers curl around his, and their smallness isn’t lost on Kevin, nor is the weight of their intentions. Their fingers lace loosely, not quite a handhold but definitely something. Kevin sucks in an uneven breath.

“Listen,” Neil murmurs. “I know that. Right now Exy is the center of your world. And I’m okay with that. I get a lot of what I need from Andrew, and I think that works for us. But. I think we’re feeling the same thing here and I. I’m tired of it feeling like a missed chance when you’re right in front of me.”

If Kevin wasn’t so rigidly fixed in place like a pillar, or Neil not so damn short, maybe he would lean in to close the space between them. He’s struck again by Neil’s bravery. It never really stops, but this beat hits him hard. Kevin would have lived in fear of the Moriyama until Riko dug his talons back into Kevin’s throat, or until death. But he didn’t have to because of Neil. He would have thought about the missed chance that was reuniting with Neil in college until he was grey if Neil wasn’t standing here, nearly chest to chest. He just needs to take one step, give one inch, to know that feeling that Neil feels as easy as breathing.

“You’re really something,” Kevin murmurs. “You know that, Josten?”

Neil’s smile is a little pained, but open. His lips look terribly inviting. “Yeah,” he almost chuckles. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” 

Kevin feels like if he doesn’t retreat now, the dam will break and any semblance of self-control he has will be given over to Neil and his whims. He doesn’t want to retreat anymore, If Neil is giving him this in - if Andrew is giving him this in - he doesn’t want to throw away the opportunity. He is a Fox now, and nothing if not desperate. 

He lets his racquet fall to the floor with a hollow clatter. Neil does the same, eyes bright with something that might be thrill or curiosity. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Kevin announces and Neil’s chest swells in anticipation.

He bends his knees so when he wraps an arm under Neil’s, it slots around his narrow waist. Like it’s a well-oiled maneuver for them, Neil’s arms come up to rest on Kevin’s biceps, and his hands hold onto his shoulders. Kevin’s lips find Neil’s before he straightens and brings Neil off his feet. He doesn’t wrap his legs around Kevin’s hips, just dangles there, a few inches from the ground while Kevin easily hoists him with one arm. The kiss is relatively tame, but Kevin’s heart wouldn’t know the difference. It beats like mad, and Kevin feels hot all over.

He can feel Neil’s chest soft and fluttery on his, only kept bound by a sports bra, and Kevin wants nothing more than to cup his hands over his chest with his free hand, but he keeps it together by pulling back and readdressing the kiss, so Neil melts a little in his arms, humming into his mouth and digging his fingers into Kevin’s shirt, the mock eyelet polyester sliding together nicely, barely heard over Kevin’s eager groan. 

Kevin’s mind slides to Andrew at that moment, waiting in the Maserati and his brows furrow. He’s such a possessive, demanding creature, Kevin still can't wrap his head around him approving of Neil coming to Kevin, but he also supposes in a way, he can. Andrew is anything but conventional, and he’d burn the world down for Neil if he asked so this. Probably isn’t much for him. 

Kevin wonders if that was how it happened. If Neil had just. Asked, in that straightforward way he does. What had Andrew’s face done when Neil breached the topic? How long had they talked it out? How often?

Gently, Kevin lowers Neil back to the floor. He hates it as it’s coming out of his mouth, and it tastes like acid, but it comes anyway. “Andrew…”

Neil shakes his head, pulling back. “I told you,” he says. “He understands.” 

Kevin doesn’t know what it means, for Andrew to trust him with Neil. He doesn’t think that it’s possible after feeling Andrew’s fingers around his throat. He isn’t sure if this was some grudging level of forgiveness or if Andrew’s need to put Neil first in his life won out over his distrusting nature. Kevin is almost certain forgiveness isn’t in Andrew’s vocabulary. 

“So he’s sharing you with me,” Kevin asks in a way that isn’t a question, slowly letting his arm unwind from Neil’s waist and straightening out. He doesn’t give any ground and has to twist his body for enough room to bend and grab their racquets. 

“Or sharing _you_ with _me_ ,” Neil says, thoughtful. 

Kevin hadn’t realized Andrew still considered him one of his things. 

“He’s probably waiting for us,” Kevin says, looking over Neil’s head at the abandoned pile of armor at the door. 

Neil hums in agreement but instead of stepping aside to let Kevin pass, he rests a hand on his hip, thoughtful. “Are you saying yes?”

He doesn’t look up so Kevin can't see his face, just the wild mess of his auburn hair. “Idiot,” he grumbles, cupping the back of Neil’s head to pull him to his chest. Neil’s arms hook around his back naturally, latching on, and he squeezes. It’s a small thing, being held close by Neil. Kevin thinks it means entirely too much to him. He hunches to hold his lips to the crown of Neil’s head.

If Andrew would give him this, only just a taste of Neil, of his touch, he’d take it. Neil hasn’t hugged him since they had come home from their trip, and Kevin finds he didn’t quite want him to let go this time.

-

The Foxes are down 7-8, and Kevin is fuming. There are 3 minutes left on the clock, and if they don’t get it together, they will lose their first game of the season after a hard-fought championship. If they lose this game, the media will begin to question if last year was a fluke. If the question is put into the air, it will affect everything - from fans’ trust in them down to the teams’ morale. 

Kevin refuses with every fiber of his being to let that happen. He breaks their line to score a sloppy, rage-induced goal just inside the 3-minute mark. From center court, Dan looks annoyed when she bumps his fist in congratulations as he jogs back to his zone. She can be angry and forgive him later, Kevin decides. They have a game to win. 

Before the ball is reset, Wymack decides that Neil has had enough time resting on the bench and pulls Jack to bring him back on. It’s a relief. Opposite Neil, Kevin might actually be able to pull the team through for a win. Jack is too young and selfish with the ball yet to be reliant as a partner. 

Kevin stares Neil down across the width of the court while Dan preps for the toss. Neil doesn’t return his gaze, choosing instead to stare down the striker that had been opposite of Jack for the past fifteen minutes. She’s winded but nearly twice Neil’s size and already smacking her racquet on the floor in an open threat. Whatever Neil says is lost on Kevin, but he can see the body language of the striker shift from threatening to affronted as she barks something back. 

The whistle is blown to announce the toss, but Kevin can’t quite pull his eyes away from Neil just yet. Just as the ball reaches its peak in the air, Neil tells her one last thing, and Kevin can feel how it cuts like a knife even if he can’t hear it. With that, the ball is caught, and Neil is already darting off at break-neck speed to intercept the opposing dealer’s pass. Kevin lurches forward to meet him, so they can send the ball in the correct direction down the court.

Neil bounces the ball off the wall, and it hurtles toward a mark a few feet ahead of Kevin. He had been too distracted by Neil’s vicious mouth to have full momentum yet, but he digs his toes into the soles of his shoes and pushes off harder than ever to catch the ball in his outstretched net. 

He has ten long paces that will take him to meet the opposing backliner before he will have to pass, or if he is smart with the ball, he can maybe -

Kevin lurches forward, pummeled hard into the Plexi and losing hold of the ball. It bounces ineffectually down the court, and Kevin has to take a moment to restart his lungs, feel around his chest cavity for jostled innards and, god forbid, a cracked rib from the strikers’ aluminum racquet crunching into his side. He breathes, heaves, and in that time the striker had scooped up the ball and thrown it down court. 

Kevin roars with anger at her, but gives her no more attention, determined to beat her down the court before the ball gets anywhere close to Renee in the goal. It has been like this all game, and Kevin knows he has a few new bruises blooming and will probably have a limp for a day or two once the adrenaline wears off, but with the tie, he’s the biggest target on the court right now, and it’s to be expected. He knows he isn’t going to get the ball for more than a few seconds before someone is slamming into him for a check. 

Luckily for him, none of the opposing team seems to be able to keep up with Neil’s impossible speed, and he’s intercepting another pass just as Kevin gets to half court and launching the ball at Dan to set him up while their marks struggle to keep up. Kevin sets himself up for a shot but both backliners trap him in, so Neil is forced to pass off the Plexi and then back to Dan to try and make some headway. Dan isn’t as fast and adept at predicting Neil’s movements as Kevin, and the Striker’s are quickly closing in. 

Kevin does a deft roll out, breaking through the backliners, hurtling himself at the goal with an arm out to draw Neil’s attention before he can send the ball to Dan. Thankfully, he notices and lobs the ball high and wide, and Kevin is certain that had he been anybody else, had any other training, it would be a lost cause, but by some miracle and the unholy traction of his runners, he pushes off hard enough to catch the ball in his outstretched racquet and tuck his body so when he inevitably crashes to the floor, he can roll from his shoulders up to his knees. With one foot planted, from the rare, low vantage point of the floor, he makes a fluid motion to thrash his racquet with his whole body, sending it whizzing into the goal, just between the goalie’s head and their raised racquet. 

The crowd goes wild as red flashes before Kevin’s eyes and he looks up to the time clock. A minute and a half left and they’re in the lead for the first time all game. 

Kevin’s head whips around to Look at Neil whose triumphant grin mangles his scars, barely visible through the sheen of his faceguard. Kevin pushes achingly to his feet, sure now there will be bruises on his knees to go along with the many that cover his torso. 

Dan claps him on the shoulder, leading him back to center court. “Thank god,” she says, hand lingering. “I was starting to think they had you shut down.”

Kevin scowls. “Then you don’t know me at all,” he mutters, heading to his spot at the right flank.

He feels more than hears Dan’s annoyed huff. “Whatever,” she calls after him. “Good goal, Day.”

Kevin holds his racquet up in acknowledgment but his attention is already on his mark, glaring her down in a dare. _See if you can stop me._

With the lead acquired, Renee is pulled to switch for Andrew, and Kevin knows that he can finally breathe. The goal is shut down, the night is over, and when it is finished, with the Foxes winning a meager 9-7, Kevin lets his heels touch the ground for the first time in what felt like ages. 

In center court, he unclasps his chin strap and yanks his helmet off, letting his head fall back in the cradle of his shoulders, sucking in hot air through his mouthguard and letting his racquet fall beside him. They have a lot of work to do, a long way to go, and these freshmen are going to be the death of him.

Kevin barely has enough time to hear the thundering of feet before he pulls his head up to see Neil’s tiny form charging at him, and with one sure leap, crash into his chest, arms and legs locked around him. 

Kevin catches him before his mind has a chance to catch up with a dazed, “Wuh?” 

Their pads lock together in a way that pinches uncomfortably, and the racquet Neil still holds slaps into his back like a whip, but Neil’s hot cheek on his means none of that matters. 

Kevin brings up one hand to cup the back of Neil’s head, and it finds purchase in his fiery hair in an instant. “You were amazing,” Neil hums, giddy and syrupy sweet. 

Kevin almost laughs, but he can’t help himself. “That pass was wide as hell,” he scolds. “I’m going to drill you ‘til your arms fall off Monday.” 

He can feel Neil’s teeth in his neck, smiling despite being mushed into his skin. 

Kevin’s eyes slide to Andrew walking away from the goal. He’s reserved, relaxed, and they exchange measured looks. Kevin thinks for a moment of lowering Neil to the floor but when Andrew dips his chin and heads off the court, Kevin decides maybe it’s okay to let this moment last a little longer, squeezes Neil’s waist and starts telling him everything he did wrong and how he could do better in the future in a hushed tone until Neil is ready to be released. And maybe even after that.

-

Kevin had just settled on the couch in the Columbia house with his favorite blanket when Neil creeps back down the stairs, backlit by the warm glow of the hall light. He wears a Trojan’s shirt he’d stolen from Kevin and a pair of black boxers that Kevin just innately knew belonged to Andrew. He leans against the corner of the wall, where staircase became living room and looks at Kevin without a word. His hair looks like a halo of fire in the light, and Kevin is struck by his thin figure. 

He pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look, and Neil pulls his head off the wall to meet his gaze. “Can I stay down here with you tonight?”

Kevin nods, not trusting himself to speak. He hopes it looks as much like _‘of course’_ as it feels. 

When Neil comes to stand before the couch and lifts one leg to rest a knee by Kevin’s hip, he brings a hand up to graze along his lean thigh and Neil sucks in a breath, pauses just for a moment, before crawling over him to nestle into the space between Kevin’s massive body and the back of the couch. 

Kevin can’t help himself. “Andrew?” he asks. 

“I asked him if it was okay,” Neil murmurs, moving Kevin the way he wanted him, so his arm looped around Neil’s shoulders, and Neil can settle his head on his chest. He snuggles in like he was made for that space, hooking a leg high on Kevin’s waist and letting his weight sink into the couch naturally. He wears nothing under the shirt, and Kevin is hyper-aware of Neil’s soft chest pressed to his ribs, He fists his hands to contain the emerging bubble of desire. 

“Are you tired?” Neil asks, like he’s not. Like he doesn’t yawn around the question, face half turned into Kevin’s armpit and moments from nodding off.

Minutely, hoping it will be enough to deter Neil from going on, Kevin shakes his head and brings his free arm up to cradle the back of his head. 

But, Neil presses on, undeterred, “I’m excited for practice. Want to get back on the court.”

“You need time to recoup after a game,” Kevin sighs. Feeling a little brave, he turns to press a kiss into Neil’s hairline, and he seems to swell at it. The resulting sigh is audible, a content hum of affection. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. His thumb grazes Kevin’s collarbone, and it makes him shiver. “I’m still excited, though. Hard to sleep.”

Kevin turns a little into the couch, so they’re almost, so close, chest to chest. He wants to slide his hand under that ratty old Trojan’s shirt and trace the length of Neil’s spine, to let his leg loop around Neil’s so they tangle, and Neil will be so impossible close that they’re breathing the same air. 

Instead, he grumbles a little, squeezing Neil’s shoulder. “It’s cramped,” he complains, but he can’t hold the act long, and pulls back a little to see if Neil is looking at him.

Neil responds with tracing the line of Kevin’s jaw. “Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“S’okay.”

Then, quieter than ever, “Can I kiss you?”

Neil purses his lips, holds for a beat before nodding. 

Kevin wants to do this right. He feels out of his depth but, it’s probably easier than he’s making it out to be. You learn by studying, asking questions, taking notes. Kevin lets his hand hover over Neil’s hip. “Where’s okay to touch?” 

Neil searches his eyes for a moment before moving to settle Kevin’s hand just below his breast, so the line from the tip of his thumb to the end of his forefinger formed a crescent that spanned from his sternum to nearly his armpit. “Just here,” he says, face hidden as he looks at the space between them.

Kevin thinks maybe Neil is being generous, and he’s more than grateful. He dips down to nose Neil’s forehead up so he’ll look at him, sneaks a kiss in at his brow before curling in to press their lips together. He thinks he’d maybe like to bring his hand up to cup Neil’s jaw but likes the placement Neil had allowed him too much to move his hand now. 

Neil’s breath is hot and he throws his leg a little higher so it latches perfectly on Kevin’s waist, curving around his back to keep him in place. Like this, their hip bones slot together nicely, like joining puzzle pieces, and Kevin about melts at the rightness of it, panting into Neil’s mouth before resealing the kiss with a flicker of tongue. 

Neil’s fingers knot in Kevin’s shirt at the shoulder blades, and the gasp he gives in response to Kevin’s tongue invading his mouth does something filthy to both of them. 

It takes Kevin pulling off with a wet pop, snap of saliva leaving a cold spot on his bottom lip, for his senses to return somewhat, and he grimaces, pushing Neil down into his chest so he can rest his chin on the crown of his head. 

“That’s enough for tonight,” he says, barely tethered to his last strand of self-control. “Sleep.”

Neil quivers in his arms, and Kevin isn’t quite sure if it’s giddiness, amusement, or something else, but he quite likes how Neil feels this small and close and tangled up in him, so he allows it. 

Gently - so gently - gently as he can manage, he runs his lips along Neil’s brow. “Can I go under your shirt?” he asks. He’s prepared for rejection and decides it won’t hurt, that he’ll be okay. He’ll take the loss like a man because he knows how much he is asking here.

He isn’t prepared for Neil to reach up and maneuver his hand down and under the worn fabric himself. As Kevin’s fingers graze up Neil’s flesh, they feel every ridge and groove, catch on velveteen scars that feel like tragedy. Kevin kind of knew they were there, but it’s something else entirely to touch them, and he feels the need to hold his breath.

He doesn’t miss how Neil’s fingers drag on the scars that mangle the back of his hand as he releases it. It’s a mutual kind of acknowledgment. 

“It’s okay,” Neil murmurs, but his brows are knitted and his eyes shut tight. “‘M Okay.” 

Kevin draw’s his thumb along the underside of Neil’s breast, watching for even the most minute change in his expression. There’s no scar there and the glide is smooth, makes Kevin want to curl down and latch his mouth onto the flesh hidden there. “Still good?” he asks, instead. 

“Mh,” Neil agrees, arm looping over Kevin’s shoulder, knotting in his hair.

It’s hard to imagine this is the same kid he stood shoulder to shoulder with to watch a man be cut to pieces. Kevin groans, a little upset at himself for ending the kiss. He’s overcome with the sudden urge to pin Neil down and inspect every inch of his body with his mouth. He wants so very much to have Neil come undone beneath him. 

“Can I do more?” He itches his fingers up to the soft curve of Neil’s chest in a gentle request, slow enough to be declined.

Neil nods, and though his face is tense, his body is easing into Kevin’s touch, unwinding with each passing beat. 

There was something a little thrilling about touching someone he knew as a kid, and a friend, and someone who had a boyfriend, even if all of these things on their own weren’t particularly enough to set his cheeks ablaze, the combination had Kevin’s heart hammering in his chest. He thinks he might be getting hard and tries not to think too much on it, putting all his attention in cupping Neil’s chest, sinking calloused fingers into soft tissue. 

Neil’s breath is hot on his throat and that adds a little to the ante. He leans into the touch, hums again and his hips do a little adjustment that has him adding pressure down onto the thigh he straddles, rutting on Kevin like he can't help himself. 

At the same time, he chuckles a little like he’s holding a secret. “I hate my chest,” he admits. 

“I can stop,” Kevin offers, hand stark still. It completely envelopes the delicate knoll of tissue. He’s small, Kevin thinks distinctly like he didn’t already think it every day. 

Neil shakes his head, clinging a little closer still. “It feels nice,” he says, voice tight but Kevin can’t tell if he’s aroused or uncomfortable.

Kevin is struck by the strong desire to make everything for Neil feel nice. But for now, just this, just for a little longer. Legs tangled, his hand caressing the most intimate parts of Neil, their breath intermingling. This will do for now. 

-

Kevin had thought it prudent to not get his hopes too high about the status of their relationship, reminding himself that Neil belonged to Andrew, that he shouldn’t think that he’d ever be on equal footing to Neil’s original keeper. 

And yet, it is not lost on him the gravity of emotion coursing through Neil the first time he slips his hand into Kevin’s. Their fingers tangle and Kevin squeezes for just a beat, like its instinct to clasp on tight to Neil like a lifeline. 

It starts without Andrew there, in private moments walking to class just the two of them or watching an Exy game in the dorm. At some point, they start doing it when Andrew is there, walking out of night practice - Kevin’s other hand wildly animated as he breaks down a play - or to the bedroom just before they split to their respective bunks. 

The first time Neil holds Kevin’s hand with Andrew standing there on his other side, Kevin thinks his heart might leap out of his chest, but if Andrew is affected by it, he gives nothing away, and when Neil turns to say something to him about game footage he got from Coach that he wants to watch, Andrew’s response is as dry as ever.

At some point, Kevin stops wondering if Andrew will draw a blade from thin air and lets himself entwine his fingers in Neil’s while they stand in Eden’s, resting it on the table plain as day where Andrew can see. He could grab Kevin’s fingers and bend them back to the point of breaking, but he doesn’t, choosing instead to take a shot and lean into Neil’s ear and tell him something just under the pulse of the music before heading for the bathroom. 

Neil’s thumb smooths over Kevin’s knuckle, talking to fill the silence of Kevin’s drinking until Nicky and Aaron appear, and Kevin finds himself tugging his hand away as surreptitiously as he can muster, shoving it deep in his pocket. He tries a little too hard not to think about how Aaron’s eyes settle on his, cold and invasive, while Neil’s adamantly look out onto the dance floor, his mouth hidden by his knuckles as his chin rests on the heel of his palm. 

-

They’re both holding back, and some part of Kevin knows this was unlike them. Normally during a night practice, they would run until their legs were num, sweat until they were drenched. Their racquets would be impossible to lift, and their clothes sopping. But they are alone tonight, and both had too much on their mind to put their full focus into practice. If Kevin had been on top form, he’d be scolding himself and reprimanding Neil, and they’d keep going until they’d perfected every play and Andrew was dragging them by their collars off the court. 

But Andrew is not here, nor is he at the Tower. He’s miles away in Columbia with his twin and cousin while Kevin and Neil are here, alone at Palmetto. So it baffles Kevin that they both suffer this affliction preventing their usual fervor. Kevin knows somewhere in the back of his head it’s the anticipation. Normally, he’d be metaphorically punching himself for not giving his all to the game, but he can’t quite dislodge the needling little reminder that Kevin and Neil are alone, with no one to interrupt their time together, to invade their privacy. 

Andrew had made a snide remark that he was tired of them “eye-fucking” each other every time they were in a room together but still having not having breached that level of their relationship, and Kevin had tried to ignore it. He’d been telling himself that they’re just going at their own pace, taking their time to get used to this new development of their relationship. But he supposes Andrew is right. It’s been two months and they just can’t seem to scale the wall that is the utter lack of privacy they get with the Monsters and Kevin’s everpresent fear of judgment. 

He also supposes he’s just grateful that Neil is being patient with him. They’d tried to start something in the dorm after coming back from the dining hall, but it was just too weird. Kevin couldn’t get over the thought that not five feet away in every direction are traces of Andrew, of Nicky, and even some remnants of Aaron, despite him having moved out. 

They’d tried moving from the bed to the couch, but that was even worse, and after an hour of aggressively not watching a movie together, with Kevin’s hand creeping from the cushion to Neil’s knee, to across the back fo the seat, to dangerously close to his chest, they’d given up and decided Exy was the only way to work out the nerves they both had bottled up. 

But after another hour of running drills, even this felt useless, and Kevin knows they were just avoiding the issue at this point. They’re not making any progress, both clumsy and distracted, and Kevin’s heart just wasn’t in it. He knows what he wants, so why is he hiding behind Exy like he can’t have it? Neil is right _there_.

“Lets hit the showers,” he sighs, letting his arms fall as he shakes his head, slowing to a walk. 

“What?” Neil says like he’d been slapped. “I’ll get it together, I promise. One more drill.”

Kevin just shakes his head, though. “It’s not just you. It’s me, too,” he sighs. After all that, he’s still vibrating with nerves. They need to man up, talk this out, deal with it. 

Probably, if he’s being honest with himself, this is was the real obstacle stalling taking their relationship to its natural conclusion. They are somewhat on the same page, sure, but they’re both trying their damndest not to talk about it. Maybe it had felt like they’d already hashed out the important stuff, but obviously there is something still there, unspoken between them. After all, they’ve been through, Kevin still has to fight those little bouts of cowardice that sneak up on him even now. He needs to get it together. 

As they pick up the balls littering the court, Kevin takes a deep breath, knowing he needs to figure out what he’s going to say before they get to the locker room. Neil had put so much of himself out for him, taken all the first steps, extended his hand first. There’s so much bravery in him, even now. But they aren’t going to really connect - not in the way they both want - if Kevin isn’t willing to offer the same level of vulnerability.

They walk to the locker room in silence, and Kevin has to keep his eyes stubbornly trained ahead as Neil uses the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, exposing his hips and all their many scars as he does. It’s something he would have never done last year. He’s already giving Kevin so much of himself, so what exactly was Kevin holding back for?

When the door swing shut behind them, as they lean their racquets on the wall and Neil walks toward his locker, Kevin takes another breath. A few actually, in rapid-fire succession, before moving to sit on the bench that runs parallel with the lockers saying, “Can you sit with me for a second?”

Neil had already started pulling his t-shirt over his head and stops with it around his arms to turn and look at Kevin. Kevin isn’t sure for a minute where to put his eyes. The piercing blue of Neil’s is almost too much to handle, and his lips are too flush, too pouty to stand, a little lower and Kevin is forced to confront the black racerback straps of his sports bra and the faint outlined curve of his breasts. 

Neil’s eyes follow his and he swallows, pulling his shirt back over his head, and settling beside Kevin. The way he sits, hands bracing the bench, bent over slightly, hid his expression, but Kevin found it easier to talk to the wall than Neil directly anyway. “I’m kind of freaking out,” he admits. 

Neil kind of laughs, just beneath his breath and nods. “Me, too.”

But Kevin shakes his head. He doesn’t get it. “No,” he says. “Like, I mean. You handle this all so well. You’re nervous but, I’m like. I’m being a coward.”

Neil tilts his head. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he argues lightly. “Just because Andrew says we do.”

“I want to, though,” he whispers. “I just-“

Neil fingers twitch to life before they move, and the way the little slivers of scarred flesh dance across his knuckles draws Kevin’s attention. His chest rattles with the exhale that comes from Neil’s hand laying across his. “Can. Can I help?”

The touch does something to him, simple as it is. Kevin turns his hand over, so he holds Neil’s fingers, Latches onto them like a lifeline. He pulls his hand to him and uses it to ground himself, drawing his fingers over Neil’s scars methodically as he allows himself to speak. “I don’t want to do something to disappoint you. It’s not like I’ve had a lot of good examples for how to do this sort of thing, and I just- If I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.” 

Neil chuckles lightly, squeezing Kevin’s fingers. “It’s okay to ask questions, you know? Same as how we always do. Just-“ and his shoulder bumped Kevin’s a little as he said it “- better.” 

“I know I bring him up too much but is that how it is with you and Andrew?” Kevin keeps his eyes focused on their hands. Even he gets tired of himself for always checking. 

Neil seems unperturbed though. “Sure,” he says. “Sometimes there's more or less, depending on how we’re feeling, but we always talk. Communication is important, especially-“ He cuts himself off, chewing over his next words carefully. 

“With trauma?” Kevin offers, glancing over. Neil smiles his thanks and nods. They didn’t need to mention whose trauma. The three had more than enough to share between them. Kevin finds himself bobbing his head as well. He supposes he’s built up more than a few bad habits in the Nest, some he hasn’t even been aware of. Keeping his mouth shut even when he shouldn’t is one. 

“Okay,” he mutters, more to himself than anything. Then, more determined, “ _Okay_.” 

Achingly slow, he pulls Neil’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles., and peeking through his fringe ask Neil, “Shower with me?” Neil’s throat bobs, so Kevin adds, “Only if you want to. We’ve just- never seen each other naked and I. Think it would help with the nerves. I know you don’t like it, though. So. You can say no-” 

“No,” Neil interjects and Kevin almost collapses on the spot, but he holds up his hands frantically. “Wait, no, that’s not what I mean. I mean, no, I want to. I-if we get used to it, it’ll be better later, right?” 

Kevin’s heart can barely keep up, but he manages to deflate without feeling like he’ll be blown away by a light breeze. “Yeah.” Then, when neither of them move, “How do you want to do this? Would it be better if you go first, or I could get started and you join me?”

Neil’s soft little laugh is like a salve on a wound. He cups Kevin’s cheeks and kisses him as he pushes to his feet. “You’re overthinking it. C’mon.” He pulls off his shirt in one fluid motion and drops it on the floor, heading toward the showers. 

Kevin doesn’t follow immediately, taking a moment to reach into his gym back for his toiletries kit. Mixed in with his street clothes are a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms that he’d shoved on a whim. He feels a little hot in the face as he deliberates before quickly shoving them in his bag of toiletries and jogging to meet up with Neil. 

Neil had picked the last stall on the end. The stalls each have a small area behind a curtain for getting undressed in privacy before the actual shower. When Kevin finds him, he closes the curtain behind them, despite being the only ones in the gym, while Neil half steps in the shower to get the water started so it’s warm by the time they’re ready. Kevin reaches over him to set the bag on a shelf carved into the tile walls before having to sit on a stool by the door to untie his shoes. Neil is able to toe his way out of his sneakers, and where Kevin neatly sets his aside, Neil just kind of kicks his out of the way. 

From there they stand before each other, not meeting each other’s eyes. For all his talk about not overthinking, Neil guards his body with one arm crossed over his chest, holding the opposite shoulder. It does nothing to hide all his scars, the imprint of an iron and more than one gunshot wound cratering his abdomen. Kevin all but shivers looking at it. All his years in the Nest, all Riko’s abuse feels dwarfed in the face of a lifetime of war marring Neil’s pale skin. Gently, like approaching a feral cat, Kevin wraps his hand around Neil’s wrist, pulling his arm away. _Communication_ , he has to remind himself. 

“Can I?” he asks, toying with the elastic band of Neil’s bra. His chin had turned into his shoulder, but he works to turn into Kevin and meet his eye. There’s a moment of the exchange where Kevin can feel himself dissected beneath Neil’s gaze. It’s a little nerve-wracking, and Kevin’s preparing himself for all of it to end, for Neil to rescind everything he gave so far. 

But then, his eyes close again, and he lifts his arms for Kevin to pull the fabric over his head. His hair moves with it, his bandana dragged out of place and falling, and it bounces back into place after so when Kevin drops the garment on the floor, he can't help putting his hands in it, manually tilting Neil’s head up to make him meet his eyes again. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to look,” Kevin says. He needs to see Neil’s eyes as he says it, to read his reaction and know for sure where Neil’s head is at when he answers. 

Eyes darting between Kevin’s, Neil seems to be searching for something himself. Kevin desperately wants to bend and kiss him, but he waits patiently for an answer, not daring to let his eyes move lower than Neil’s until he has permission. 

Finally, Neil takes Kevin’s hands, pulling them down and placing them on his hips. “I want you to look,” he whispers, barely heard under the water hitting the tile behind him. 

Something lodged in Kevin’s throat makes it hard to swallow. The steam fills the cramped space, and blood was rushing to his cheeks, and they haven’t even finished undressing, let alone get into the shower, but Kevin takes the time to look down and appreciate the faint curves of Neil’s body. He knows Neil hates them - they talked about it sometimes, when it’s just them - but his narrow waist is perfect for holding and Kevin’s hands are big enough that he can run his thumb up from Neil’s navel where a long slice had been gashed into his abdomen, all the way up to where the curve of his breast began. He tries swallowing again and licks his lips, trying not to worry too much about Neil staring at him as he marvels at his body. 

Nervously, Neil laughs, “Gross, huh?”

Kevin shakes his head, bending his knees to kiss his shoulder, right on the seam of that mangled iron shape. “This okay?” 

The words produce a breath, and Neil shivers as it hits his skin. His arms come up to brace on Kevin’s shoulders and he nods. “Y-yeah. You- you can. Do whatever you want.” 

One glance up is enough to gauge Neil’s expression. Satisfied by what he finds, Kevin mouths his way down, bending Neil backward a bit to lave his tongue across his nipple and latch onto it. Neil’s breath catches in his throat, fingers digging hard into the skin at the back of Kevin’s neck. Maybe there’s some guilt there, in the back of Kevin’s mind, that he likes this so much, focusing on something that’s a source of turmoil for Neil, but he chooses to trust Neil to speak up if he wants Kevin to stop. And with how Neil clings to him, slotting his thighs around Kevin’s to grind his body against him, stopping seems to be the last thing either of them want. 

Kevin has to fight himself to pull off, though his hands take the place of his mouth and he kneads his fingers into the soft flesh as he kisses Neil, maybe somewhat apologetic. “Shower,” he grumbles around his lips. 

Neil’s scoffs, doing nothing to untangle them. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Water’s gonna get cold.” 

Kevin hangs his head over Neil’s shoulder, grumbling. He needed more of this. Just this, just Neil, but that’s not what they plan had been, so achingly, like it pains him, he pulls back, trying not to be too obvious about adjusting his erection. When Neil snickers at him, Kevin shoots him a dirty look, but he supposes he doesn’t have to worry about looking small before the heat of the shower looks him. 

“Just get undressed,” he says, glowering as he fiddles with the drawstring of his shorts. 

He could punch that bemused smirk from Neil’s lips but. He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. Nerves always chew up his fuse unbearably quickly Turning his back to Neil, Kevin gives himself a moment to take a few breathes to steady himself before dropping his shorts and stripping his socks and by then, he figures he’s gotten it together enough to turn around. 

It’s a mixture of that same anxiety about his size and the antsiness of his arousal that makes Kevin hold his cock, but Neil’s back is to him already, hovering at the door of the shower and reaching in to check the temperature of the water. The first indication that Neil is just as nervous as Kevin is the way he doesn’t look at him to ask, “Ready?” There’s just enough of his profile visible that Kevin knows he can see him in his peripheral but he stubbornly keeps his eyes trained on the shower nozzle, fiddling with it uselessly. 

It’s hard to answer though, when Kevin is busy marveling the curve of Neil’s ass, the subtle dips of his hips and the way his muscular legs cross at the knee, accentuating every shape. “You’re so sexy,” Kevin admits instead, coming up behind him. 

He can see just enough of Neil’s face to watch his eyes widen and his ears go pink. “Wow,” he snarks, back going rigid. “That was some line, Day.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kevin grumbles, following him in. 

-

For how it started, bathing itself is a tame event. Kevin sits on the brink of his nerves washing him down the drain but he has to admit, he likes the simple intimacy of running his hands through Neil’s hair as he rinses the shampoo from it and Neil’s hands lathering body wash on his chest, working tension from his shoulders with a washcloth. Neil’s face goes red in a way Kevin hadn’t known it could when he kneels to wash his feet and he doesn’t even bother hiding his laugh. He’d worried for a moment about the silence being uncomfortable but after a moment, he cracks a joke, and Neil talks about Exy and it becomes natural, synchronized, them moving around each other in the narrow stall. 

Still, Kevin can’t get the invasive reminder of the lube he’d stowed away in his bag out of his head. Each time he digs through it, his heart hammered in his chest, worried Neil will hear the crinkle of the condom foils. He tries hard to focus on his mission. Just getting them comfortable together like this, naked and vulnerable is the plan. They don’t need to rush things. They can just enjoy themselves like this, Neil’s head resting on Kevin’s chest, Kevin’s chin on the crown of his head. 

And yet. 

When the time comes to shut off the water and too late remember neither of them had grabbed a towel, Kevin finds himself stalling for time. He supposes some of it is lingering arousal but, if he’s being honest with himself, he just doesn’t want this moment with Neil to end.

Kevin lurches when he reaches for the handle, holding the door closed and looming over him so he can smell the cool mint scent of his own shampoo in Neil’s hair. He cant find the words to ask the question properly and just hopes Neil can read him anyway. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Neil laughs, kinda breathless, eyeing him over his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Kevin agrees, letting his hand fall to Neil’s, trying to be gentle as he pulls it off the door. He uses his hands to turn Neil and lean him on the frosted glass, and after a moment’s hesitation, tilts his chin up to make sure he’s looking at him to ask, “Can I? Now?”

“Now?” Neil echoes. But he lets himself be kissed, first the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then down his throat. Each peck makes him sink a little further into the door until he’s holding himself up by Kevin’s shoulders alone. “Shouldn’t we go back to the dorm, first?”

Kevin can’t be quite sure where he wants to touch. A little bit of everywhere would do. His hands flutter from Nei’s shoulders to cupping his breasts, his hips, groping his ass and a little of everything in between. “I’m afraid,” he admits, between kisses, “I’ll lose my nerve if it's not now.” 

Neil’s response is an exasperated little scoff, but he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, rubbing a thumb beneath Kevin’s eye, before pulling their lips to meeting. “You’ll be gentle with me, yeah?” 

“‘Course,” he gripes, but he knows its a fair question, knows Neil is being more than fair with him. 

“How do you want me?” Neil asks, combing fingers through Kevin’s wet hair. 

Kevin answers the question with his own, “What’s best for you?” _Communication_ , he chants in his head. _Be nice_ , he has to remind himself. 

When Neil doesn’t answer right away, he pulls back, waiting. Neil kind of chuckles. “I’m not used to getting to decide,” he admits, scratching behind his ear. 

The corner’s of Kevin’s mouth tug but he doesn’t think nows the time to get into it. “I’ll be okay no matter what we do,” he offers. “I want to make sure you feel good.” 

Neil smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You talk so sweet while looking like _that_. It throws me off.” 

“Like what?” Kevin suddenly feels hot in the face. Is he making some stupid expression?

“All serious, like this is life or death,” Neil giggles. “Your face is just like that; I know you can’t help it. It’s just so. Funny.”

Kevin scowls. “I’m trying to be _considerate_ , jackass.”

Neil’s little shit-eating grin is simultaneously endearing and enraging, and Kevin barely holds back the urge to throttle him. “I know, I know. Thank you. Just. Dial it down, maybe?” 

Kevin has a hard time training his face into a neutral expression, at least until Neil cups his cheeks, mushing them slightly. And when his eyes dance at the ridiculousness at it, Kevin about melts, letting himself succumb to the absurdity of everything. His brows quirk, and he honest to god lets himself laugh a little bit, even if it’s quiet and small. “Okay, okay,” he grumbles, letting himself be kissed. “Quit stalling and tell me how you want me to fuck you, clown.” 

Neil’s smile does a poor job of disguising his own nerves. He fumbles a bit with a lock of Kevin’s hair and says, without meeting his eye, “Is it okay if, uh. We do it um. From behind?” 

Kevin quirks a brow. “As in like. Not facing each other? Do you like - not want me looking at you still?”

Neil makes something of a grimace. “No, I mean like. I um. I don’t like - _Fuck_ , haha.” He stops a moment to rub his hand over his eyes, hiding them behind his fingers as he cringes through, “All that talk about communication but this is really hard, huh?” 

“It’s okay,” Kevin offers, unsure how exactly to proceed. He starts with gently peeling Neil’s hand from his face, kissing his palm. “Take your time.” 

He busies himself kissing the inside of Neil’s wrist, then the crook of his elbow, and a line up his shoulder, all while Neil mulls over his words. The whisper of Kevin’s lips brushing the bend of his neck makes Neil suck in an uneven breath and he hums lightly, draping his arm across Kevin’s shoulder. It would be a lie to say Kevin doesn’t feel more than a little impatient but he keeps an iron grip on his own restraint, not crossing any lines that hadn’t already been defined for him.

Eventually, Neil tips his forehead into Kevin’s shoulder, like he can't bear it anymore. “Christ, I,” he groans, nails digging into Kevin’s scalp, pulling his hair lightly, but not enough to really dislodge him from the slot of his throat, just beneath the jaw, that he worked so diligently. “I want you to fuck me in the ass, Day.”

“Mh,” Kevin says. 

“I don’t, uh,” Neil continues. It might be a combination of the nerves and the kissing that’s tangling his words, but his throat bobs and he continues in a weak rasp, “I’ve never done it - uh, the other way. Is that. That okay?”

Kevin didn’t say what he was thinking: that it would have to be, regardless of his preference. Instead, he just cradled the back of Neil’s head, bearing his neck for him to suck hungry kiss marks into. “Of course,” he murmurs. Then, moving up to press a final kiss to Neil’s forehead, he adds, “Turn around.” 

Neil takes a moment to look up at Kevin before obeying and for a moment, the silence spoken between them is thick and hard to breathe through, more than the steam that still fills the space. Kevin has half a mind to turn him back around, to hold Neil to his chest and squeeze until he’s crushed in his arms like a fragile bird. Instead, he gently combs his fingers through the short hair still dripping fat droplets of water from his neck and bends to drag his lips along the goosepimpled flesh while he takes Neil’s wrists, moving his hands up to the frosted glass door. 

“Here,” he says, bracing his hands there for him before reaching for his toiletries and digging around for the lube. 

Neil’s breath falls heavy with anticipation as Kevin guides him to bending over a little more with a hand on the small of his back and then spreading his thighs a bit, all while popping the cap of the lube. He squeezes an ample amount onto his fingers and works his hand to warm it while setting aside the bottle. 

The view is enough to strike Kevin silent for a moment, Neil’s arching back and the jagged lightning marks that litter his hips. His fingers sink into Neil’s ass when he grabs one cheek to spread him and make room for his fingers. It’s only in Neil’s startled his at the cool touch of the lube that prompts Kevin to question, “This okay?”

He waits for Neil’s timid nod before dragging the flat pads of two fingers over his entrance, circling them to coax Neil into relaxing a bit before sinking his middle finger in. It’s easier than he expected. The sensation is unfamiliar, taut skin that fights him before opening to soft heat, but with only a little movement, the tension eases and Kevin is able to press in further, testing Neil’s limits. 

Neil, for his part, crumples against the glass, squirming a little and making small, strangled noises that Kevin can't quite interpret. He’s about to ask if he should stop when Neil reaches down between his legs, and glancing over his shoulder tells Kevin, “You can add another finger.” 

Kevin doesn’t exactly want to think about how many times Neil has done this before, but there’s something reassuring about it. He finds himself fisting his cock as he curls his middle and ring finger down into Neil’s innards, and spreads them best he can against the tight coil of his entrance. 

Watching Neil’s brows furrow, his lips draw down in a strained frown, Kevin chews the inside of his lip. “You doing okay?” 

Neil peals his eyes open, glancing back at Kevin’s fingers working, and just behind that, his hard cock. He swallows. “I’m great,” he says, already sounding a little breathless. 

“More lube?”

“Mh,” Neil agrees. “Maybe a little.” 

-

Two more fingers and a lot of lube later, Neil finally chokes out, “O-okay. I think- think I’m ready for you.” 

Kevin about sighs in relief, pulling his fingers out and fumbling around for a condom. His fingers can't quite seem to keep up with his brain, and he almost rips the first in his eagerness, then scares the breath out of Neil trying to ram his cock into him. It’s lucky for them both he supposes that he slips ineffectually against the slick, jostling in Neil a bit and making him stumble.

“Sl-slow down,” Neil laughs, breathless.

“Shit.” Kevin wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist, steadying his cock and, hopefully, his heart. “Sorry. Sorry.”

His second attempt, he lines himself up gently, letting the head of his cock press against Neil’s entrance while he braces his free hand on Neil’s hip, and rather than forcing his way inside, he eases Neil back onto his cock while pressing forward lightly, slow as he can manage. 

Despite all his care and all that prep, Kevin still finds his teeth grinding as Neil seizes up at the invasion, making a strangled noise of pain, his hand clawing its way up the glass to hook his fingers on the edge of the door offered by a small gap for ventilation. 

“No good?” Kevin asks, freezing. He isn’t quite sure he’d be able to make any more progress anyway, with how Neil squeezes around him. 

“‘M okay,” Neil argues, sounding distinctly _not okay_. “Jus-just give me a. Second.” 

“We can do more prep if you need,” Kevin offers, completely failing at not sounding irritated. 

“No.” There’s a break in his speech as Neil swallows wetly. “It’s okay just. Don’t pull out.”

Kevin obeys but between soothing circles rubbed on Neil’s hip bones with his thumbs, he offers, “How about more lube?”

Neil doesn’t speak this time, only nodding, and once again the only sound is his breath bouncing off the tiles punctuated with the snap of the lube bottle’s lid. It’s not exactly the most comfortable like this for Kevin, with only a fraction of the head pressed into Neil’s ass, but he braces himself and does his best to be patient while Neil adjusts, with prolonged gasping breaths. 

While the silence drags, Kevin moves to brace one hand above Neil on the door, and asks, “Would it be better just to go in with one long movement or a little at a time?”

Neil sucks in a slow breath to a count of exactly five seconds, then after holding it, lets it out before swiveling his head to examine Kevin from the corner of his eye. “Once the head is in all the way, it’ll be easier,” he grits out and reaches back to spread his ass. As he does, his fingers graze Kevin’s cock, feeling around to check how much he had left to go. “Just push in a bit more-“ And as Kevin obeys, “- that’s it. You’re just big is all.” 

Neil still hisses between his teeth but Kevin guesses by the way his eyes flutter closed and the heavy weight of his brows eases into something softer, he’s beginning to adapt to the feeling and relax into it. With just a little more pressure, Kevin manages to sink in just a bit, relishing the tight heat slowly encasing him. Neil hums like he agrees, letting his hand fall to Kevin’s fingers on the crook of his hip and squeezing. 

“Good,” he murmurs under his breath, and it melts into a moan when Kevin gives an experimental thrust like he was actually starting to feel it. 

It’s through a series of these small, gentle thrusts that Kevin finally bottoms out, sinking himself in to the hilt, and they moan together as he curls around Neil’s back. There’s a dull burn in the back of Kevin’s hamstrings from having to bend so they meet flush, but it’s worth it for how wet and deliciously firm Neil’s insides are encasing him. All the grooves and coils of Neil hug every ridge of Kevin’s cock and add perfect amounts of pressure so he grumbles and finds himself grinding in even deeper, making Neil squirm and quake beneath him. 

“Shit,” Neil pants, hand falling between his legs once more. “More, Kev, c’mon.” 

There’s nothing to do besides obey, so he does, but first, Kevin loops a hand under the back of Neil’s knee to lift his leg and it’s just the right angle to swing his hips into him and Neil yelps at it, mashing his face on the glass to stabilize himself. Mixing with their panting and Neil’s sweet noises is the growing volume of Kevin’s hips slapping against Neil’s ass, and he kind of thinks it sounds crude and gross but he’s far too distracted with chasing his pleasure.

Neil wheezes, throwing his head back and cussing, so Kevin adjusts his grip to makes sure his footing his stable so he can reach down, cup his hand around his clit. “Can I?” he pants out, just barely waiting for Neil’s hum of approval between pursed lips as he pulls his hand back, fisting Kevin’s hair. 

With that, Neil’s only option is to just brace himself while Kevin takes care of everything, rubbing demanding circles on his clit and fucking into him desperately. He sinks his teeth into Neil’s neck, sucking a hickey into his skin without any mercy, and Neil wails at it, melting into babbling pleas for Kevin to just keep going, just a little more, he’s so close. Kevin all but snarls, kind of wanting to just pick Neil up and fuck him against the wall with his legs thrown over his shoulders, but too zeroed in on their joint pleasure in to even dare to pull out. 

Neil’s cries of, “That’s it, harder, fuck,” echo off the tiles and undoubtedly down the entire hall of showers. Kevin has a brief moment of clarity to be grateful it’s close to midnight and they’re thankfully more alone than they could have ever been in the dorms, but the thought is quickly shucked away in favor of shifting the rubbing pressure he used on Neil’s clit to send his back to arching and toes to curling. 

Kevin isn’t much of a talker in the bedroom, but there’s something about being in such an unusual environment that has him making his own little grunts and noises. “You close?” he asks, drawing his teeth along the shell of Neil’s ear and moans at how Neil clenches around him in response.

“Shit, yeah,” Neil sobs. “So close, Kev.” 

His legs are quivering like they’ll give out any minute and it only takes a few more short thrusts for Neil to abruptly seize, curling in on himself, jetting his fluids all across the glass and tile in a couple of short bursts. 

“Holy shit,” Kevin says, pulling his hand back and watch Neil quake. Gently, he lowers his leg to the floor and Neil heaves, melting against the door. If he were a kinder person, maybe Kevin would have given Neil a break to come down, but he can't help himself continuing to thrust, and Neil, winded and fuckdrunk takes it with his eyes fallen closed and mouth open in a round “O.” 

Kevin practically bends in half to finish deep in Neil, completely stuffing him so he crumples into a weak sob. Fingers squeeze hips hard enough to bruise, Kevin drops his forehead on Neil’s shoulder and ruts in deep with each pulse of his cock, riding out the orgasm with a string of colorful words and a strangled grunt. 

Neil’s whimper is regrettable as Kevin pulls out, but he apologizes with a tender kiss to his temple before they have to inevitably clean themselves up a second time of sweat and overexertion. 

-

Kevin’s legs drag as they walk across campus hand in hand. His quads are already punishing him for his hubris, and he can only imagine what the rest of his body will have in store for him in the morning. He could almost hate Neil for bouncing back so easily if not for how refreshed and satisfied he looked, swinging their hands lightly between them. 

When the Tower comes into view, Kevin pulls him to a stop just before the streetlights illuminating the parking lot. Neil’s eyes are round and practically glow, even as Kevin ducks down to kiss him. “I, uh,” he says. Well, he hadn’t actually thought through what he wanted to say. 

Neil chews his lip like he’s trying to hide a grin. “Me, too,” he offers, and Kevin supposes that’s enough. 

Kevin lets his gym bag fall to the sidewalk and loops an arm around Neil’s waist, cradling his jaw, so Neil follows suit, dropping his bag and letting himself be held. It’s dark, and they’re alone, which makes Kevin a little more ballsy than normal. He wonders if there’s some kid somewhere just out of view who can see them kissing just outside the glow of a lamppost, if he should care about the judgment, but decides he doesn’t. 

He can feel Neil’s smile on his lips, his fingers in his hair, the hummingbird lightness of his heartbeat on his chest, and that makes worrying about anything else impossible.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a gift and then it took me something almost six months to actually write it so like. Idk man we got there eventually I guess.


End file.
